


The Duchess of Spiders

by Sephirotha



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: F/M, Faustian Bargain, Forbidden Love, Murder Parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 19:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sephirotha/pseuds/Sephirotha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She didn't want to but she couldn't think of another way out of her misery</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

A young girl of sixteen sat on her balcony with her harp, gazing out to the beautiful scenery of the morning. Her slender pale fingers plucked the strings of the harp, causing a beautiful melody to fill the crisp spring air. Blood red eyes gazed out to the sea thoughtfully as the song attracted spiders by her feet. She felt them crawl up her dress and up her legs. She knew they were crawling into her long mane of ebony black hair. Annabelle loved spiders much to her maids’ despair. She would always save them from being squashed and swept away then release them out into nature. The spiders knew her and after time Annabelle got to know individual spiders. They were her only friends in her lonely world. Annabelle gazed down on her lap and saw a rather large spider sitting on her thigh, nestled into the turquoise silk of her dress. It snapped its pincers thoughtfully as its beady golden eyes stared into her blood red ones. Annabelle stopped playing the harp and held out a hand for the spider to crawl in. It was as big as her palm, she noticed and brought it closer to her face. She admired it thoughtfully, running her tiny finger down the top of its body. It didn’t move, just stared at her with its golden eyes. Annabelle raised her head as she heard a fly. She watched it curiously as it flew around her head then settled itself on the top of her harp. The spider clicked its pincers and Annabelle’s hand suddenly lashed out. The fly buzzed in pain as Annabelle held two of its wings in her hand. She placed her spider on top of the harp and watched as it grabbed the fly and jabbed its pincers into it. The spiders in her hair and crawling out of her dress watched with her. Annabelle giggled softly and took the spider that was on her ear out and placed it on her lap.  
“That tickled,” she said to it in a soft voice.  
Her head turned when she heard a shriek. Her maids were in her room, their eyes wide with horror when they saw her covered in spiders. She sighed and bowed her head.  
“You have to go now,” she said sadly “Be careful.”  
At her command, they scuttled away from her and climbed down from her balcony. The large spider remained on her harp, the dead body of the fly in front of it. When Annabelle told it to go away again, it didn’t even budge. Annabelle sighed as she stood up and picked her harp up. She went in while picking the spider up and slipping it into the safety of her cobwebbed hair that trailed after her on the ground. The maids fussed over her when they saw that she had cobwebs in her dress, across her neck and wound into her hair.  
“Young Mistress, this is unacceptable behaviour,” one said as she dusted the cobwebs off from her neck.  
“You are to be married on Midsummer’s Day, you must grow out of this childish fascination on spiders.”  
“Oh, they’ve even been under your skirt!”  
Annabelle waved them away irritably.  
“I would rather enjoy the rest of my days of freedom with my friends,” she said simply and sat down in front of her vanity.  
The maids sighed in unison and began to clean up her bedroom. Annabelle stared at her reflection, with her spider staring back at her on her shoulder.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabelle hears about the story of the fairy

Annabelle lay in her bubble bath, her hair being handled by her maids as they washed it gently. Annabelle was proud of her hair, she had been growing it for twelve years. Her parents were never around to complain about it but they wouldn’t be able to stop her if she made up her mind on anything. Annabelle blew the bubbles away from her face and spotted the spider from before sitting in a dark corner of the bathroom. She watched as it just sat there, never moving. Annabelle was jealous of her spider friends. They could go anywhere they wanted and they would only have to worry about humans that would try and kill them. Annabelle would do anything to be a small innocent spider and spin webs all day.  
“Hey, do you know?” one young maid asked another who washed her hair “Do you know of the fairy that grants wishes?”  
Annabelle rolled her eyes but listened anyway.  
“To summon it, you need to cover your face with a spider web that’s covered in dew.”  
“Ew!”  
Annabelle winced. Why did everyone around her hate spiders?  
“And you need to chant: Hoheo Taralna, Rondero Tarel.”  
Annabelle found herself mouthing those words thoughtfully and grimaced. Like that was going to work. It was just a children’s story.  
“Does it work?” a maid asked curiously.  
“Who knows? We’ll just have to go and see.”  
“No way! I’m not getting my face covered in a spider’s web!”  
Annabelle had heard enough.  
“Ladies,” she said with as much authority as she could muster “Have you finished washing my hair yet?”  
“N-No, miss!”  
“Then stop chatting and hurry up!”  
“Y-Yes, miss!”  
********************  
Annabelle loved her singing lessons. She would especially love it when spiders from all around the house would cluster on the ceiling above her then descend onto her body carefully to nestle themselves in her hair and rest themselves on her shoulders. Her singing teachers came and went when they saw her covered in spiders by the end of the song. Most of them left from disgust, others left because they had arachnophobia. Annabelle would get scolded by the maids and butlers in the house but she would take no notice of them anyway.  
“It’s not my fault that there are spiders in the house,” she would often say “And who’s to say that it’s my fault that they like me?”  
Every singing lesson would mean that she would end up having to be in the library, reading her favourite books. But the spiders even came to her then. They would crawl up the sofa, up her legs, up her dress and settle themselves in a comfortable position as she read. She would scold the one or two for getting in her way of her reading but welcome them all the same. The maids that would come in to clean the library would shriek at the sight of her. She would often get scolded by the head maid.  
“But, if I may explain, I just can’t help it,” she would say “First one spider comes along and I see that it isn’t doing any harm. Another one comes and I leave it alone because it isn’t doing anything bad. And before I realise it, they’re all over me! Then I don’t want to shake them all off because I would feel bad. They only want to say hello.”  
She would be shooed out of the library and then it would be lunchtime. The spiders left her alone because they would be hungry too. At least, that’s what Annabelle concluded when the staff inquired to why she wasn’t covered in spiders. Today was different, however. As Annabelle began eating he lunch, she noticed her spider sitting by her plate, staring up at her with its golden eyes. She blinked in bewilderment and quickly grabbed it, placing it on her lap so no-one would see it. She began eating like normal then stared down at it.  
“Aren’t you hungry?” she whispered to it.  
It said nothing, just stared up at her silently. Annabelle sighed softly and looked at the maids and butlers that watched her.  
“I would like to eat alone,” she announced.  
They nodded and filed out of the dining room. Annabelle placed her spider back on the table and walked over to the windows to open them. The cool spring air made her shiver slightly, but she shrugged it off and sat back down to continue eating her lunch. Her spider made no movements, just watched her silently. Annabelle heard a faint buzzing noise and placed her fork and knife down. She looked up and saw that she had successfully attracted a wasp to her with the chicken she had been eating. She made an O shape with her thumbs and index fingers and held it before her spider. It got the hint and began weaving a web in between her hands. It crawled onto her wrist and sat patiently. Annabelle waited for the wasp to take off from the slice of chicken then lunged. The wasp buzzed angrily as it writhed in its new prison. The spider immediately crawled onto the web, blanketed the poor wasp in new silk and pierced its fangs into it. Annabelle watched in mild interest as the spider began eating and smiled softly.  
*****************************************  
Annabelle probably loved getting ready for bed the most in her daily routine. She would be writing her stories by her desk in her journal to read to her friends. Her bookshelf held a total of one hundred and twenty one journals, all completed with stories and little doodles. Annabelle had been writing since she was six years old because she was so lonely and wanted to play with someone. Everyone told her to amuse herself and so she did. She would write her stories in the candlelight before the clock would strike nine. Usually maids would come to dress her in her nightclothes but when Annabelle was twelve, something peculiar happened. Thousands of spiders came down, attached to their threads, and formed the shape of a person who was taller than Annabelle. They moved and to Annabelle’s astonishment, they dressed her into her nightclothes! After being dressed into the silk nightgown, Annabelle began laughing loudly. She had laughed and laughed, until her sides had split, her eyes were watering and she nearly wet her knickers. The maids thought she was mad when they came in and saw her fully dressed in her nightclothes while rolling around on the floor, killing herself with her laughing. But Annabelle waved it off as she remembered a funny story from a library and declared that she could dress herself. The maids were sceptical but they let her be. Annabelle would then go straight to bed. The spiders would leave her alone to sleep in their own webs but tonight was different. When Annabelle blew out her candle, the first thing she saw was a pair of golden beady eyes. Startled at first, Annabelle carefully placed the spider on her bedside table so she wouldn’t squash it in her sleep. She smiled and yawned, burrowing herself into her pillows and blankets to go to sleep. Her spider watched before crawling onto her bed and resting itself on her pillow beside her, watching her as she slept.  
*********************************************  
The next morning, Annabelle was playing her harp on her balcony, like she did every morning. Her spider had gone by the time she had woken up and concluded that it had gone back to its web. She paused her playing when she spotted a dew covered spider’s web attached to her window. She sighed and stood up, reaching up to detach it from the window so she could hang it somewhere else. Her finger slipped and it fell on top on her face. Freezing for a brief moment, Annabelle considered what the maids had been talking about yesterday. Sighing and shaking her head she murmured to herself:  
“Hoheo Taralna, Rondero Tarel.”  
Annabelle sucked in a breath and sighed when she realised nothing happened.  
“Well that’s that,” she said and was about to take the web off when she realised she couldn’t move her arms.  
She looked around and her blood red eyes widened in alarm when she realised that she was trapped on a giant spider’s web. Her arms were stuck to her sides and the web moved. She looked up and a giant spider came over her, staring down with its great big golden eyes.  
“Were you the one who summoned me?” it asked, its voice void from any emotion.


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabelle is offered a contract

Annabelle froze and stared up at the spider over her. She felt herself shivering, not because of the cold air, but she felt frightened. Trapped like a fly on a web, she couldn’t help but feel that human instinct in being afraid of their life coming to an end. She stared into the four golden eyes and swallowed softly.  
“What is your wish?” the spider asked her, its pincers close to her ear.  
“M-My wish?”  
Oh yes, she was supposed to have a wish for this fairy. She shied away from the spider and looked away.  
“W-Well I…I…”  
She wanted to exact her revenge on her parents. Annabelle had never known a good relationship with any adult, particularly her parents. Tears collected in her eyes as she remembered brief moments.  
*********************  
Ten years ago…  
********************  
“Daddy, Daddy, wait for me!”  
Six year old Annabelle, her hair reaching to the middle of her back, ran down the stairs as her father was about to leave. He was in his late forties, his black hair starting to grow grey with his moustache. His brown eyes scrutinized the young, naïve girl as her blood red eyes glittered in excitement.  
“Daddy, I wrote a poem for you!” she said and held up a piece of paper for him.  
He took it reluctantly then turned his back.  
“How lovely,” he said, burning it with his lighter out of Annabelle’s vision “Go to your mother.”  
He walked out with his butlers and employees, the large doors closing on young Annabelle and leaving her in the dark. Confusion flashed across Annabelle’s eyes.  
“O-OK…” she murmured as she stood up and walked away.  
********************  
Seven years ago…  
***********************  
“Mommy, listen to my short story,” nine year old Annabelle nudged her mother who lay sprawled out on the sofa.  
Two bottles of wine and a half full wine glass stood on the glass coffee table behind her. Annabelle knew the effects of too much alcohol by this time, but she approached her mother despite how much she had consumed. Her mother looked awful, her red hair stuck to her face which was smudged with make-up. Annabelle had tried on her make-up once and her mother yelled at her for wasting such expensive products.   
“Mommy, please,” Annabelle shook her mother a bit more roughly.  
“Don’t call me that!”  
Annabelle received a sharp but drunken slap. Her face was turned sharply as her cheek stung and burned. Annabelle’s eyes were wide in shock and she dropped her journal. She stood up and ran out of the living the room, her hair trailing after her, the spiders inside clinging onto it for dear life. She slammed the doors so hard that the wall shook and she ran onto her balcony, hugging her harp for comfort. She sobbed and looked out to the beach. She saw three villagers, a little boy with his parents. She watched as the mother kissed the boy’s head softly and the father gave him a piggyback ride. Annabelle sobbed and ran her hand across the strings of her harp softly.  
“I want a real mommy,” she murmured childishly.  
**********************  
Four years ago…  
*********************  
“Arielle…” Annabelle’s father began.  
“Annabelle,” twelve year old Annabelle corrected almost automatically.  
“Silence,” Annabelle’s mother snapped as she rubbed her temples.  
“We have decided on the man that you are to marry,” Father continued.  
“I will not marry him,” Annabelle stated bluntly.  
“You will, Annalisa,” Mother sighed tiredly.  
“Annabelle,” Annabelle corrected.  
“Oh be quiet, girl,” Father groaned and turned away “You’re dismissed.”  
“When do you expect me to get married?” Annabelle asked irritably.  
“On your sixteenth Midsummer’s Day, now leave,” Mother said.  
Annabelle stood still for a brief second before turning and leaving the room.  
***********************  
Back to the present…  
**********************  
Annabelle shook her head.  
“I do but…”  
She looked at the spider warily.  
“What would you want in return?” she asked.  
The spider’s face turned into a human’s, golden human eyes staring deep into her eyes.  
“What makes you think I would want something in return?” it asked curiously.  
“I know not to take anything for granted and there’s no such thing as a free lunch.”  
Annabelle and the spider stared at each other before the spider’s pincers went around her neck, nearly touching her.  
“Your soul,” it replied.  
Annabelle’s eyes widened and she tried to get free from the web. She winced when a cold pincer touched her neck and she stilled.  
“I do not wish to give away my soul for something so…so…”   
She turned away from the spider and glared into space.  
“Tell me, what is your wish?”  
Annabelle looked up and stared at the human face.  
“A perfect revenge against my parents.”  
Her parents appeared, strung up in the web above them. Annabelle and the spider never lost eye contact.  
“I want to take over my father’s business after learning the right skills and run it in a way that will kick him out of his job,” she murmured her wishes “I want to take my mother’s money that she splurges on herself and use it to help the village near the house.”  
“You have so much light around you,” the spider began to circle her curiously “But I can sense a dark side to you buried underneath all of that.”  
Annabelle didn’t move her head, afraid of getting too close to those threatening pincers. The spider stopped and stood over her again.  
“I will give you twelve hours to decide,” it said “I will leave you with this to think about. If you achieved your wish with my help, wouldn’t it make you feel accomplished enough to move on to the next stage in your life?”  
Annabelle was suddenly released from the spider web and sent falling down into the black abyss beneath her.  
*************************************************************************************************************  
Annabelle woke up and found herself in her bed. Spiders were sleeping on top of her blankets as she sat up, some of them scuttling away to give her room to move. Sweat covered her face and she hugged her blanket closely, the last of that spider’s words echoing in her head.


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabelle contemplates about the contract

Annabelle strolled through the gardens thoughtfully, lacing and unlacing her hands as she did so. The fairy had talked to her at half past six in the morning. It was now quarter past six in the afternoon, the fairy said he’d come after twelve hours. Annabelle strolled next to the black metal garden fencing. She paused as she saw a small village boy outside the fence, crying. Curiously, she sat behind him and tapped his shoulder. He gasped and turned to see her, his eyes wide and teary.  
“Who are you?” he asked.  
“Annabelle,” Annabelle replied “Who are you?”  
“L-Lucas,” the little boy sniffed and rubbed his nose with a grubby sleeve.  
Annabelle tilted her head to the side and offered a kind smile.  
“Why are you crying, Lucas?” she asked.  
“F-Father got arrested,” Lucas sniffed and rubbed his eyes “We can’t afford to pay the tax on our house and he’s been arrested because we haven’t paid in time. He’s going to be in jail until we bail him out but we don’t have the money.”  
He turned to her and stared at the mansion wistfully.  
“I wish we could live in a big rich family like you,” he said.  
“I wish I could live in a poor family like you,” Annabelle whispered softly as she gripped the bars “Police custody is not the only form of imprisonment.”  
The boy stared at her as she leaned her head on the bars, giving the image of his father behind bars. Annabelle stared sadly at him before blinking and getting an idea.  
“My maids are not going to like this,” she warned in a mischievous whisper and winked.  
She stood up and Lucas stared in bewilderment as she kicked her shoes off and handed them to him through the bars.  
“Try and sell these, see if you can get enough money to bail your father out,” she whispered.  
The boy stared down at the pearl studded slippers in his hands, his mouth ajar in awe.  
“Thank you, Miss!” he said and ran down the street “I’ll repay you somehow!”  
Annabelle laughed as she watched him run down the street. She sighed and shook her head before spotting a young girl watching her. She smiled and beckoned her closer.  
“Hello, what’s your name?” she asked.  
“M-Melody,” the girl said shyly as she stepped forward.  
“You look sad, Melody, why is that?”  
Melody looked around and leaned in.  
“My mother is ill,” she whispered “We have enough money to hire a doctor but not enough to keep her warm…”  
“Well what do you need?” Annabelle asked curiously.  
“We have firewood but it doesn’t last all night,” Melody whispered “We just need a warm blanket for her with enough money to buy her some healthy food.”  
Annabelle frowned briefly before snapping her fingers.  
“I can’t give you jewellery because I’ve been banned from wearing it,” she said as she grabbed the hem of her dress.  
Melody gasped as Annabelle threw her dress off and handed it through the bars.  
“See if you can sell this,” she said in her undergarments.  
Melody blinked as she pushed the dress back.  
“I can’t.”  
Annabelle folded her arms.  
“I have plenty of dresses and I’ll be fine,” Annabelle assured “Your mother’s health is more important.”  
Melody looked at the dress, running a hand down the blue silk and hugged it.  
“Thank you,” she said before running off.  
Annabelle smiled and turned, walking away from the fence due to the fact she didn’t have anything else to give away. She entered the garden maze, running her fingers along the walls, feeling the opening buds of the flowers and leaves. A chill reached her and she shivered, folding her arms and shuddering as she eventually reached the middle of the maze. She froze when a coat was draped over her and looked up wearily. Her eyes widened when she saw a tall man with short black hair and golden eyes that Annabelle recognized almost instantly. Those eyes were hiding behind glasses as the man stepped away and knelt down to one knee.  
“It’s been twelve hours,” he said.  
Annabelle stepped back, her body shaking.  
“I…I…”  
She swallowed and took another step back.  
“I don’t know,” she said with a sigh “I cherish life…”  
“But you’re finding it hard to cherish your life now.”  
Annabelle gasped as the man suddenly appeared behind her. She turned and stepped away again, never taking her eyes away from his.  
“I…”   
She turned away and sighed in defeat.  
“I’m scared of my coming marriage,” she admitted “I’m so scared…”  
Her fiancé was a fifty-six year old friend of her father’s. The marriage would accomplish a deal of some sort to do with business. Annabelle was terrified when she first visited this man. He had several prostitutes that were her age. He was a paedophile, the spiders of that mansion showed her. Annabelle had never been so scared. Tears spilled and Annabelle covered her face as she broke out into sobs.  
“I’m scared!” she cried out.  
The man placed a hand on her shoulder as she cried.  
“I can stop the wedding,” he promised “I will do whatever you command.”  
“Until the end of this Faustian Contract,” Annabelle sobbed “What have I sunk to?”  
She hiccupped and wiped her eyes.  
“A perfect revenge,” she whispered to herself “A perfect revenge and all I have to do is say yes…”  
She shook her head again and sat on the ground.  
“I can’t,” she sighed.  
“Please reconsider.”  
Annabelle looked up at the demon and turned away. She sighed in despair and covered her face.  
“I can’t!”  
“Please, Your Highness.”  
Annabelle looked up as he appeared in front of her. She shivered and sighed. He would be loyal to her. He would be her first true friend. And who knows? Perhaps her last days would be enjoyable before she let him eat her soul. Annabelle slowly looked up and stared into those golden eyes.  
“…I’ll form the contract,” she decided.  
“Well decided,” a gleam passed the demon’s glasses as he held out a hand for her to take.  
He helped her up, staring down at her.  
“Where would you like the seal?”  
“Seal?”  
Annabelle looked down her body and stared at her hands. She held out her right hand.  
“On the palm of this hand,” she decided.  
The demon snatched her hand and heat pulsed through her hand as Annabelle saw light flash across her.  
**********************************************************************************************************  
Annabelle stirred in her sleep and opened her eyes blearily. She sat up and spiders scuttled around her, gently tickling her to ask if she was alright. Annabelle yawned and looked at her clock. Seven o’clock. She’d overslept by an hour.  
“I’m fine,” she whispered to them “Go, your webs might have caught your breakfast.”   
With a wave of her hand, they scuttled away at her command as she stretched her arms. She yawned again, running a hand through her hair.  
“A dream?” she murmured to herself.  
But with one glance at her hand, she realised it wasn’t a dream. The Faustian Contract Seal was embedded in her right palm. She closed her fist immediately and looked up when the door opened. She expected her maids and was surprised when the demon came in with a tray of breakfast.  
“Good morning, Young Mistress,” he addressed and laid it on her lap.  
Annabelle stared at her breakfast with hungry eyes.  
“Thank you,” she said and began tucking into the pancakes.  
She watched as he went to her wardrobe and pulled out the dress and her shoes that she had given away yesterday. She dropped her knife and pointed at them speechless.  
“I bought them from two children,” the demon explained as he lay them out before her and pushed his glasses up his nose “I made sure to pay them a respectable amount.”  
Annabelle’s eyes glittered with tears as she pushed the breakfast tray away, jumped out of her bed and hugged the demon happily.  
“Thank you for doing that,” she said then remembered something very important “I forgot to ask; what’s your name?”  
“Claude,” Claude replied as he adjusted his glasses on his face.


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A daily routine with Claude

The maids watched by the bathroom door as Claude single-handedly brushed Annabelle’s hair, getting it ready to be washed, without getting soaked with water or soap. Annabelle tilted her head from her bubble bath and observed him curiously.  
“You’re going to be all of my teachers?” she said warily.  
“That is right,” Claude replied while closing the bathroom door and taking his gloves off.  
Annabelle stared at his black nails curiously as he took the shampoo and began spreading it on her head.  
“Singing, harp, English, Maths, History, Latin, economics, dancing and painting, those are the subjects your parents wish for you to study, yes?” he listed the subjects while rubbing it into her scalp.  
“Yes,” Annabelle nodded then hesitated “Wait, they don’t want me to study Maths or economics…”  
“Those are the necessary subjects to help you run your father’s business,” Claude replied with a soft smirk.  
Annabelle looked up at him and blinked then smiled softly.  
“But how are we going to fit that into my schedule?” she asked as that smile turned into a soft frown.  
“We begin lessons at six o’clock, straight after your tea, you’ll have dinner at eight o’clock and we will have a refresher lesson just before bedtime.”  
Annabelle stared up at him in horror as he washed the shampoo out.  
“But that means I won’t have time to go for my walks!” she exclaimed “Or write in my diary!”  
“Or have the opportunity to lose your dress and catch your death,” Claude adjusted his glasses as Annabelle scowled and sunk into her bubble bath more “Your diaries can wait for another time.”  
Annabelle mumbled something into the water before raising her palm and looking at the seal curiously. She traced it and bit her cheek as she realised what she had gotten in to. Sighing and shrugging her shoulders, she closed her eyes as the conditioner was gently applied to the full body of her hair.  
*****************************************************************************************************************************  
Annabelle’s voice echoed throughout the mansion as she sang in her singing lesson. The spiders crawled towards the ballroom, as if her voice was like their siren call, scuttling up to the ceiling and clustering directly above her. Annabelle felt the first spider land on her cheek and smiled as they landed on her head, shoulders, arms and the skirt of her dress. Annabelle faltered as Claude suddenly stopped playing the piano. He looked up and eyed her severely, adjusting his glasses back up his nose.  
“Your friends will have to leave if they’re going to distract you,” he said sternly and Annabelle flinched inwardly at the tone.  
She sighed and shrugged then looked down at the small black spiders that covered her whole being.  
“You heard him,” she said and waved her spider covered arm to the far wall “Go wait in the corner.”  
The spiders all filed off her and scuttled away, crawling up the walls and resting on the ceiling. Annabelle turned to Claude and cleared her throat.  
“I’m ready.”  
Claude nodded before continuing playing from where they had left off. Annabelle smiled as she continued singing with her soprano voice. She was happy enough, at least her friends could be in the same room as her when she sung.  
***********************************************************  
“What kind of things have you done for other people?” Annabelle asked curiously as she ate her dinner with Claude observing her quietly.  
“More or less the same,” Claude replied “Revenge is the most common wish in people who have dark souls.”  
Annabelle hesitated and stared at the window.  
“I have a dark soul?” she murmured.  
“Somewhere inside you,” Claude replied.  
Annabelle turned to Claude warily.  
“Are you going to bring it out?” she asked a bit shakily.  
“If you wish.”  
Annabelle turned away from Claude and shook her head firmly.  
“No, I’m fine with the way I am,” she said, not seeing the glint in Claude’s glasses.  
********************************************************************************  
Annabelle yawned as the clock struck nine o’clock in the night and closed her new Maths workbook. Maths and economics were harder than she had thought and both subjects had tired her out completely. And the refresher lesson was just as hard because she was too sleepy to even concentrate. She couldn’t wait to just slide into bed and fall into the blissful world of slumber.  
“Not so fast,” Claude said and Annabelle let out a tired groan “Recite your nine times table from one to fifteen.”  
Annabelle yawned again and rubbed her eyes.  
“Nine, eighteen, twenty-seven, thirty-six…”  
She yawned again and held up a hand.  
“I know this, give me some time,” she mumbled and yawned again “Forty-five, fifty-four, sixty-three…”  
She collapsed on her writing desk and fell fast asleep. Claude closed his teacher’s maths book and set it on the desk with the workbook. He picked Annabelle up from her seat and carried her to her bed, shaking her awake gently.  
“Seventy-two…” Annabelle mumbled while she was half-awake.  
Claude took out a blindfold and took off his glasses to tie it around his eyes, obscuring his vision.  
“Arms up,” he instructed as he undid the clasps to Annabelle’s dress.  
“Eighty-one,” Annabelle chanted while she held her arms up.  
Claude swiftly changed Annabelle out of her dress and into her nightdress.  
“Ninety,” Annabelle mumbled as Claude removed the blindfold once she was fully dressed “Ninety-nine…”  
Claude, with his glasses back on, folded the blanket back and guided her to her bed to lie down.  
“One hundred and eight,” Annabelle breathed as he tucked her in “One hundred and seventeen, one hundred and twenty six, one hundred and thirty five.”  
She sighed and fell back to sleep fully, a tired smile spreading her features. Claude switched the bedside light off and walked out.  
“Good night, Young Mistress,” he said and silently shut the door.  
He began walking down the hallway to clean the rest of the mansion. He stopped as he saw the maids that normally looked after Annabelle look at him in awe.  
“Who are you?” one young maid asked curiously.  
“What are you?” the head maid corrected.  
Claude just adjusted his glasses and smirked softly.  
“I can turn day into night, salt into sugar, saints into corpses and dark blue into gold,” he recited “I am just one hell of a butler.”


	6. VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude and Annabelle get a bit closer

“CLAAAAAAUUUUUDE!!!!!”  
Annabelle’s scream had Claude rushing to her bedroom in lightning speed and at her side. Annabelle was wide awake, her face was sweating and those blood red eyes were as wide as saucers, staring at the wall opposite her. She gasped as tears pricked her eyes and she covered her face, turning away from Claude.  
“Don’t see me when I’m crying!” she shouted.  
“Yes, Your Highness,” Claude said as he turned away from Annabelle “You screamed for me?”  
“…”  
Annabelle sniffed as she rubbed her eyes and wiped her nose.  
“I had a nightmare,” she mumbled shyly.  
She blinked when a spider landed in front of her and before she knew it, her spider friends were crawling all over her, softly asking if she was alright or not.  
“It was about my fiancé,” she sighed and sniffed “We were…”  
She shivered and hugged herself. Claude stared into space emotionlessly.  
“The honeymoon?” he concluded.  
A shudder of disgust went through Annabelle and she snarled.  
“Don’t ever say that word,” she spat bitterly.  
“My apologies.”  
Annabelle glared into space darkly as Claude’s soft smirk was unseen by her. She rubbed her arms softly and continued shivering from the cold.  
“Claude…” she murmured “I’m cold. Hug me.”  
Claude’s arms were colder than she was feeling but she leaned back into him nonetheless, still shivering.  
“Th-Three months,” she whimpered.  
“Rest assured, Young Mistress,” Claude said “You will not be attending any weddings.”  
“I-I’m st-still s-s-scared…”  
Annabelle’s teeth were chattering now as she rubbed her hands to warm them up. Claude pushed her down and pulled the duvet over her, tucking her securely into her bed.  
“It is ten past three in the morning,” he said as he could look at her now, since she had stopped crying “Go back to sleep.”  
“Bring me my current journal,” Annabelle whispered as she gripped Claude’s hand “Writing in my journal helps keep my nightmares away. I don’t want another one…”  
Claude silently nodded, got up and picked one of the journals from the bookshelf. He took a pen and handed the items to her. He propped her pillows up for her to lean on as she flicked through the journal and tapped her pen on a page thoughtfully. Claude shooed the spiders away from Annabelle, sending them back to their webs. Annabelle looked at him, staring into those golden eyes.  
“Stay with me until I fall back asleep,” she requested quietly.  
Claude nodded as she began writing in her journal, giving him a scrutinizing glance every so now and then. Claude just stayed by her side, her little hand entwined with his.  
********************************************  
It took twenty minutes for her to fall asleep. After returning her journal to its place on the bookshelf, Claude left her bedroom to see the doorway crowded by the maids who had taken their time to get out of their beds and see what the commotion was about. They all stared at him with tired eyes before the head maid came forward.  
“Come with me,” she said and led Claude away from Annabelle’s bedroom.  
Claude followed her outside where the head maid began to speak.  
“Don’t get attached to her,” she advised in a low tone “She’s just seeking attention.”  
Claude didn’t say anything, just listened. Looking around, the middle-aged woman leaned in discretely.  
“The girl’s a defective one,” she whispered “Everyone knows there’s something wrong with her in the…”  
She gestured to her head and Claude quirked an eyebrow in interest.  
“How would you know?” he asked.  
“Well you see how she’s like with spiders, the nasty things,” the head maid shivered softly “She never does as she’s told, she keeps giving her things away to the villagers and she isn’t at all ladylike. Personally, I cannot wait until she’s gone and married.”  
Claude gave her an inspecting look and turned away.  
“She’s a good soul,” he said mostly to himself.  
“Oh, your opinion will change within a week or two,” the head maid promised with folded arms “She’s a right terror and disgrace, especially with her blood status.”  
When Claude raised a questioning eyebrow the head maid rolled her eyes and sighed.  
“She’s a bastard,” she whispered quietly “The Duchess can’t bear children so the Duke took a villager to impregnate her to get an heir. Wasn’t too happy when it turned out to be a girl, mind you.”  
“Does Annabelle know about this?” Claude asked.  
“Well of course not!” the head maid snorted “It’d break the poor thing’s heart and it’ll cause me and the others more work than necessary.”  
Claude said nothing, just formulating a plan in his mind with the head maid’s information.  
**********************************  
“Good morning, Young Mistress.”  
Annabelle yawned and rubbed her eyes as the sunlight spilled out and filled the room once Claude opened the curtains.  
“Read to me what I wrote last night from my journal,” she said while tucking into her breakfast that had been brought to her “I don’t want to read, in case I spill food over it.”  
Annabelle was very picky about the condition of her journals. Claude picked up the journal that she had been reading and opened it to the last page.  
“‘No, you shan’t sleep with me tonight’,” he recited in a monotone voice “‘If I roll over and squash you, it would be such a mess and it would stain my nightdress. Oh please, the spider purred as it crawled onto her shoulder, it isn’t every day a spider gets a nice warm comfortable bed to spend the night in. The princess scoffed and picked it up by the leg. You ask for too much, she said with a sneer.’ That is all you wrote, minus the mistakes you’ve crossed out.”  
Annabelle sighed as she tapped her boiled egg softly with her spoon.  
“I need to figure out what she could do…” she murmured softly to herself.  
“In the meantime,” Claude adjusted his glasses “Recite your seven times table.”  
Annabelle stared at him and sighed.  
“Alright,” she said “Seven, fourteen, twenty-one…”  
Claude noted how well Annabelle could remember numbers and smirked softly. That would be a very fine trait in the business when she would take over and ruin her father. Claude’s glasses glinted in the morning light. He would be able to complete his task quicker than anticipated if things carried on going as smoothly as this.


	7. VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks later

It had been two weeks since the contract had been formed. Annabelle read her economics book with a frown as she tried to comprehend it. She lay on her bed with her legs kicked up in a lazy fashion. She blinked and turned round.  
“I’d really appreciate that you don’t use me to spin your webs on,” she said pointedly.  
The three spiders clicked their pincers before going up and down her legs to detach the spider’s web they had made in between her legs. Annabelle nodded with a smile and gently lowered her legs back down on the mattress. A cough made itself clear and Annabelle turned the door.  
“Claude,” she said with a soft smile as her butler came in with some tea.  
“How are you handling your homework?” he asked and sat next to her to read over her shoulder.  
Annabelle sweatdropped as she bowed her head.  
“I still have a long way to go,” she murmured.  
Claude leaned over so he was directly above her.  
“Where can’t you understand the text?” he asked and Annabelle blushed softly by the close proximity between them.  
“H-How does the government link into all of this?” she asked a bit quicker than normal.  
“Ah, that’s quite simple…” Claude said as he leaned in closer and began pointing to sections of the text “You see…”  
Nothing really registered in Annabelle’s brain because Claude’s breath was going across her ear and tickling her skin. Her heart began to beat at a faster pace than normal and her cheeks were as red as her eyes. Claude smelt so nice too. Vanilla and lemon filled Annabelle’s nose and she held back a sigh, trying her best to concentrate. She didn’t see the way Claude was looking down at her, a smirk slowly crawling onto his face. The hair on the back of her neck seemed to stand up as he tapped her shoulder. She looked up shyly and her blush intensified in heat as she stared into Claude’s golden eyes through his glasses.  
“You’re not concentrating, Young Mistress,” he said bluntly.  
“Ah!” Annabelle snapped her gaze back to the book “Sorry!”  
She gasped as Claude flipped her over onto her back and a gloved hand was pressed to her forehead.  
“You’re very flushed,” he observed in a low voice “You haven’t caught a fever, have you?”  
Annabelle’s heart was going faster and she swallowed softly. Claude’s face was so close to hers and his hand felt nice and cool against her sweaty and fiery forehead. Her lips felt dry and Annabelle licked them nervously. Claude’s eyes flashed fuchsia and he mirrored her actions. Annabelle shivered as she had that brief thought of…a very intimate scene with her butler. Her breath hitched as Claude lowered his body on top of hers and began to tremble.  
“Now you’re shivering,” he observed and Annabelle knew that he was teasing her now “Maybe it’s necessary to give you a medical examination, Young Mistress.”  
“N-No!” Annabelle squeaked and flushed even more “I-I’m fine! Perfectly f-fine! Heh…”  
Annabelle felt herself melt when Claude smirked softly. Her lips parted slightly as she felt like her nose wasn’t giving her enough oxygen because it was clogged up with Claude’s damn irresistible scent. Claude ran an icy finger along her lips and Annabelle felt herself tremble more.  
“Cl-Claude…” she whispered.  
“Yes, Young Mistress?”  
“U-Ugh…”  
Annabelle bit her lip as she felt warmth flood through her entire being, especially in between her legs.  
“I…”  
Claude’s face neared her and Annabelle’s eyes fluttered closed as she felt his breath tickle her lips. The door slammed open and Annabelle no longer sensed Claude over her. Annabelle’s eyes snapped open and she sat up to see who had come into her room. It was her mother. Dread filled Annabelle to the very core. Did she see them? That would be so disgraceful to the family, the only daughter having an affair with her own butler. Especially since she was betrothed to another! The Duchess’s blue eyes scrutinized Annabelle and Claude very carefully before she staggered over to Claude, clearly drunk. Annabelle could see the bottle of alcohol in her hand and immediately felt sick.  
“How’s about that drink?” the Duchess shamelessly draped herself over Claude.  
“I’m sorry, milady,” Claude said as he stood firmly still “I am helping Young Mistress with her studies.”  
The Duchess turned her head and caught Annabelle’s glare. She smirked as she drummed her fingers on Claude’s shoulder.  
“Why bother? She’s only good enough to be used as a wh-”  
“Mother,” Annabelle cut in sternly with a glower.  
“Don’t call me that!” the Duchess shrieked as she raised her hand to slap Annabelle.  
Claude caught her wrist and held her firmly. Annabelle growled and stood up.  
“Claude, get this filth out of my sight!” she ordered and grabbed the bottle of alcohol from the Duchess’s grip.   
She threw it out of her window where it went sailing into a tree and smashed into pieces. The Duchess gave Annabelle a filthy glare but before she could say one word, Claude swiftly threw her out of the bedroom.  
“My apologies,” he bowed and closed the bedroom doors, locking them so she wouldn’t come back in.  
He realised he couldn’t turn around when he heard Annabelle sobbing softly. He stood still, waiting for her to compose herself before he could look at her.  
“Claude,” Annabelle sniffed as she stared out of her window “Hug me.”  
“Yes, Your Highness.”  
Annabelle soon felt those cold arms wrapped around her and began crying more tears as she knew this demon feel anything for her. That’s why she still felt empty. She never was loved. Annabelle hugged Claude’s arms and sighed.  
“I don’t understand why she hates me so much,” she mumbled softly and Claude’s glasses glinted in the light “I’ve never done anything to her.”  
“No, you haven’t,” Claude agreed.  
Annabelle turned and hugged Claude back.  
“Then why does she speak to me with such contempt in her voice?” she asked “Why does she hit me? A mother would never do that.”  
“You’re right. A mother would never harm her child.”  
Annabelle suddenly didn’t like Claude’s tone looked up at him.  
“Look at me, Claude.”  
Claude looked down at her and they made eye contact.  
“She…is my mother right?” Annabelle murmured.  
Claude stared down at her silently and Annabelle pushed him away, her eyes wide with alarm.  
“She is, isn’t she?!” she asked, her voice raising slightly.  
Claude sighed and adjusted his glasses.  
“I’m afraid the Duchess is infertile,” he said “She cannot bear any children.”  
Annabelle pressed herself to the wall, shivering.  
“B-But…” she stammered.  
“She isn’t your mother,” Claude said with an unseen smirk “You’re a bastard, Young Mistress. A female bastard at that.”  
“No…”  
“Everyone knows. Your parents don’t love you because of your blood status.”  
“But…”  
Claude smirked.  
“Your mother is a commoner in the village. You are unloved because of that.”  
Annabelle stared at the floor, tears threatening to spill her eyes. She closed them and took deep breaths.  
“I…see…” she murmured and smiled despite herself.  
Claude watched as she took a deep breath while raising her hands to weave into the scalp of her hair. He didn’t expect the high-pitched scream to leave her mouth and echo throughout the entire mansion and village.


	8. VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabelle's screaming makes her lose her voice

Claude sat outside, feeding the small canaries that gathered around him. Annabelle was still screaming, even after a good three hours since he told her the unfortunate truth about her. She had a good set of lungs for a young human.  
“Claude!”  
The maids had been tailing him for a while since they rushed to see why Annabelle was screaming. He ignored them as they asked the same questions over and over again:   
‘Why is Miss Annabelle screaming? Has the Young Mistress finally gone mad? Can you not stop her screaming? Is she experimenting a new tantrum?’  
Claude kept his answers simple and clear:   
‘I have no idea. I don’t think so. No, I’m afraid I can’t. I’m sure she isn’t.’  
But the young maids kept on imploring him for more answers. The Duchess was moaning about how the screaming ‘brat’ was giving her a headache that was worse than a hangover. The Duke was out on a business affair so he wouldn’t know that his daughter is screaming, unless he can hear her from wherever he was. Claude lifted his head as the screaming stopped abruptly. He waved the canaries away as the maids turned with a gasp.  
“She’s stopped…”  
Claude stood as his contract burned from Annabelle’s request for his presence. When he arrived at her room, the room was completely filled with spiders. The spiders from the village must have heard Annabelle and scuttled over to see what the commotion was about. Annabelle was sprawled over the bed, sobbing into the sheets.  
“Young Mistress.”  
Annabelle sniffed and lifted her head, facing away from him and wiped her face. She tried to say something to the spiders but coughed loudly, holding her throat. The spiders seemed to understand her somehow. The black mess of spiders that covered the pink carpet shifted and formed a pathway to the bed. Claude walked over and sat down beside Annabelle.  
“Young Mistress, have you lost your voice?”  
Annabelle looked up at him in shame and nodded with a sniff. Claude nodded stiffly and tipped her chin up.  
“Open your mouth,” he instructed.  
Annabelle’s jaw fell open and Claude tilted her head right back so he could get a good look at her throat.  
“As I suspected,” he said “You’ve been using your throat more than your diaphragm for your screaming. We will temporarily stop your singing lessons for a month. I suggest you refrain from using your voice.”  
“B-”  
Annabelle coughed more as she attempted to use her voice to talk to Claude. Claude gave her a disapproving frown.  
“Your condition will only worsen if you do that,” he said sternly.  
Annabelle pouted to herself and yawned. Claude looked over to the clock and saw that it was nearly six o’clock.  
“Plenty of rest will do you good,” he said and waved the spiders away so he could get up and help Annabelle get dressed into her nightclothes.   
As he helped Annabelle out of her dress, he noticed the cold cup of tea left on the bedside table.  
“Your tea is cold, shall I heat it up?”  
Annabelle shook her head, yawning pointedly to show that she wanted to go to bed early. Claude eased her into her nightdress and pulled the covers back for her to climb in. She curled her body into a small ball once she was on the large, cold mattress. She flinched when Claude reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. A light blushed dusted across her cheeks and she hid under the blankets once Claude pulled them over her. Claude picked the cup of cold tea and went to the window to empty it outside. He glanced back at Annabelle as he walked out of the room.  
“Goodnight, Young Mistress. Sleep well.”  
As he closed the door, Annabelle twitched as she fell asleep and into a dream.  
********************************************************************************  
Annabelle found herself strung up on a large spider’s web. Her wrists were bound above her in spiders’ silk. She had spider silk wrapped around her nude body securely, covering her from her toes to her chest. Annabelle tried to break out of the web but only succeeded in clicking her wrists and making the cold spider silk brush across her skin, giving her discomfort. Annabelle shivered softly from the cold, her breath visible as she sighed. As delicate as a spider’s silk was, it seemed as tough as iron now that she was trapped in it. Annabelle felt so fragile as she lay on the web, helpless. She felt something different about her. There was something else underneath the layer of spider silk around her body but she couldn’t feel exactly what it was. Annabelle stared into the black abyss before her, feeling pretty pathetic as she couldn’t move her body that much, even to move into a comfortable position. She felt vibrations from the spider web and looked up, her eyes widening when she saw a large spider coming down to see her. She opened her mouth.  
“…!”  
She had no voice! Annabelle couldn’t even make a soft whisper! The spider stood over her and Annabelle could see Claude’s recognizable eyes. She shivered as it ran a leg down her body, snapping the silk off her body. Annabelle gasped as she saw two pairs of arms attached to her, wrapped tightly around her body. Pain shot through her as Claude sunk his pincers into one arm and ripped it off her body effortlessly, like a human ripping a leg off a spider. She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out and she writhed underneath the giant spider. She began shouting Claude’s name without her voice but her lips spoke the words which the spider understood. Annabelle began crying and closed her eyes, one hand over her stump. A cold gloved hand wiped her tears away, making her opened her eyes. Claude was over her, his golden eyes holding no emotion.  
“A spider trapped on a spider’s web,” he said while brushing the hair out of her face.  
Annabelle’s whole body shook as he leaned in, his breath tickling her face. Annabelle lost herself in his eyes when they glowed fuchsia. She tilted her chin and moved to touch Claude’s lips with hers…  
**********************************  
Annabelle woke softly and stared out of the window where the sun was starting to peek over the horizon on the sea. She smiled to herself. Out of the beautiful things in Cornwall, the sunsets were her favourite. She slipped out of her bed and pulled her harp out onto the balcony. She seated herself and began playing a soothing melody to the early spring morning. As the spiders crawled up the mansion to surround her and listen to her melodies, Annabelle couldn’t help but think of her birthmark which only she and her parents knew about. Ironically enough, it was in the shape of a spider and placed on an embarrassing part of her body. Annabelle sighed to herself and stared at the sea silently while playing her harp until Claude arrived with her breakfast.


	9. IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabelle meets Grell and her real mother

Annabelle just couldn’t concentrate on her Maths lesson, Claude noticed with an irritable look. Her blood red eyes just kept on wandering towards the village outside the window and beyond the garden fence. Claude would clear his throat and she would snap her focus back to her work. But something would always draw her attention away from her work and back towards the village. Claude adjusted his glasses when Annabelle turned to the window for the sixteenth time and stood up.  
“You’re very distracted, Young Mistress,” he said as Annabelle looked up at him.  
Annabelle grimaced and looked away.  
“Would you like to visit your birth mother?”  
Annabelle looked up with a silent gasp and nodded vigorously. Claude went to her wardrobe and brought out her cloak. After putting it on her, Annabelle hugged him tightly, her arms barely able to constrict around him completely.   
“Would you like to take the carriage there or would you prefer to walk?” he asked.  
“W-!”  
Annabelle coughed hoarsely and Claude sighed, patting her back.  
“You would like to walk?”  
Annabelle looked up and coughed once before nodding. She then gave him another hug, leaning her head on his chest. Claude remained motionless until she pulled away and took her out to the village by foot as requested.  
******************************************************  
Annabelle hovered on the corner of the street as Claude went down to look for her birth mother. She felt something tug at her hair and turned round to see young children playing with her hair. She smiled to herself as one child wrapped itself with a large tendril of hair then fell over. The other children tugged and pulled at her hair curiously, playing around with it. Annabelle just smiled and watched, interested in seeing children that were having fun, being carefree and don’t have to worry about having unloving parents. When she turned round, she gasped as she saw a wide smile of pointed jagged crocodile-like teeth. Stumbling back in surprise, she took a better look at the person who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere in front of her. He had long hair, not as long as hers mind you, that was blazing red and he wore a long red coat over his grey waistcoat, white shirt and black trousers. He had red glasses with green eyes behind them. Annabelle stared as the man stepped away and looked into his book.  
“Miss Annabelle Metson-Williams?”  
Annabelle nodded warily.  
“Miss Annabelle Daisy Sasha Pearl Metson-Williams?”  
Annabelle blinked before holding up her hand to single for the man to wait for a moment and mouthing her full name to herself. She knew her full name from seeing her birth certificate when she was roughly thirteen. Annabelle frowned and shook her head. Her full name was Annabelle Susanna Sabrina Marilyn Metson-Williams. The man hummed and flicked through his book.  
“That clears a few things up,” he murmured and nodded to himself “You don’t look anything like this.”  
He held up a photo of the Duchess and Annabelle’s eyes widened in horror as she realised that the Duchess had the same first name as her. The man frowned and looked at both her and the picture of the Duchess.  
“Why, aren’t you supposed to be mother and daughter?”  
Annabelle quickly shook her head.   
“Young Mistress.”  
Annabelle and the man turned to see Claude at Annabelle’s side. Claude regarded the man suspiciously, a hand clamping onto Annabelle’s shoulder protectively.  
“Who may you be?” he asked warily.  
“Me?” the man pointed to himself then grinned “Grell Sutcliff. But don’t mind me, I’m just doing some business in the area.”  
“You’re a Shinigami,” Claude observed, his words giving Annabelle shivers down her spine.  
Grell just grinned and winked when Annabelle straightened up while remembering that this guy was looking for the Duchess. Hope flickered in her eyes as Claude turned her away.  
“Well we shall go on our own business,” Claude said and walked Annabelle away from the Shinigami.  
Annabelle heard Grell shout his goodbye and her breath caught in her throat when she saw a woman with black hair and scarlet eyes by one of the doors. Claude pushed her more until they were in front of her and bowed to the woman.  
“Your daughter, ma’am,” he said and nudged Annabelle closer.  
Annabelle knew that this woman was her mother just by looking into her eyes. Annabelle could feel that motherly attachment that she had been craving for from this woman. She opened her mouth but Claude slapped a hand over her mouth.  
“Remember you have to rest your voice,” he said sternly but Annabelle didn’t listen.  
“Mo-?”  
Annabelle burst into a fit of coughs and Claude sighed irritably, holding her chin up and massaging her vocal cords through her neck to soothe the coughs. When Annabelle recovered from her coughing fit, she flung herself into the woman’s arms. She felt warmth for the first time as the woman, who was her mother, her real mother, embraced her back and felt herself cry, sobbing in a pretty pitiful way.  
“Annabelle…” the woman murmured as she ran her fingers through Annabelle’s long hair “My precious, precious daughter…”  
Annabelle sobbed and sniffed as she hid her face into her true mother’s clothes. It had been the first time she had been called ‘precious’. Her mother patted her head in a reassuringly and rocked her back and forth, like Annabelle had dreamed of once upon a time, a tiny smile appearing on her features. Her own scarlet eyes filled with tears and she buried her face into Annabelle’s hair. Claude’s back was turned on the embracing mother and daughter due to the order of not seeing Annabelle cry. His glasses glinted in the sunlight and a smirk spread his features. He had found Annabelle’s mother for her, but at the same time he found out that the woman was suffering from cancer. She didn’t have much longer to live. It was always so convenient to always be one step ahead to find information to taint Annabelle’s poor pure soul even more.


	10. X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabelle attempts to kill the Duchess

Annabelle still seemed distracted in her Maths and economics lessons but work was getting done nonetheless. Claude ended the Maths lesson to leave Annabelle some time to write in her journals to prevent any nightmares. Annabelle waited until Claude left before closing the journal she was currently writing in. Her eyes trailed over to her harp and she got up. She gently stroked it before detaching one of the harp strings and sneaking out of her room. Glancing both ways to make sure Claude was nowhere to be seen, she began to go over to the drawing room where her mother often stayed after having her evening bottle of brandy. Her eyes narrowed at the mass of ginger hair that was visible from the back of the sofa. She pulled the string in her hands taut and began to creep over to the slumbering woman. Annabelle took a deep breath and lunged forward to loop the string around the Duchess’s neck and strangle her to death. Two gloved hands grabbed her wrists suddenly and Annabelle was pulled out of the drawing room. Annabelle turned around and glowered as Claude plucked the harp string off her hands.  
“Now, Young Mistress,” he said as she folded her arms in a strop “Don’t you think it’s a bit hasty to get rid of the Duchess?”  
Annabelle stuck her bottom lip in a huff and glared at the floor. Claude circled the string around his hand before pocketing it into his breast pocket. He adjusted his glasses as Annabelle turned her back to him.  
“A spider would normally play with its food before eating it,” he said “We haven’t begun playing yet.”  
Annabelle turned her head with wide eyes as a sly smirk appeared on Claude’s face.  
“Wasn’t it your wish to have a perfect revenge?” he said and began to escort her back to her bedroom.  
Annabelle nodded sheepishly and Claude ran his fingers through her hair, getting them caught as he found knots. He pulled the harp string out of his pocket and compressed it between the palms of his hands to pull out a hairbrush. He began brushing the large dark mane as they arrived at Annabelle’s bedroom. Annabelle yawned deeply as she sat down on her bed while Claude continued to brush her hair. Claude sat down beside her and she leant her head on his chest. Claude didn’t miss the light blush that went across Annabelle’s face when she breathed in his scent. Lowering the brush, Claude stroked one of her red cheeks and Annabelle blushed more, looking up at him.  
“I hope you haven’t caught the common cold from the village,” Claude said as he pressed his hand on her forehead.  
Annabelle avoided his gaze and Claude spotted the spots of blood forming on her gloves. He picked one up and slid the glove off, seeing the cuts that the harp string had caused on her petite hands. His eyes flashed magenta as he lifted the hand and licked the blood off. He recoiled slightly from the burst of light that her blood held but because of the murder intention inside her, it wasn’t fatal. He caught the hurt look from the young girl and smirked.  
“Give it time,” he said before lowering the hand and pulling out some bandage roll from his pocket to wrap it around her cuts.  
He did the same to the other hand and Annabelle’s head fell back onto his chest, a tear streaking down her cheek. Claude turned his head away but Annabelle clutched his tailcoat.  
“It’s…OK…” she rasped and Claude looked down to meet her blood red gaze.  
She coughed a little bit and Claude wiped away her tear. She flinched a little bit when she felt the cold skin against her heated skin. Claude leaned in and she closed her eyes and leaned up to meet his lips.  
“Young Mistress…”  
Annabelle suddenly collapsed on top of Claude to feign sleep and Claude looked up to see the cause of the intrusion. It was the head maid and she blinked when she spotted Annabelle then smiled.  
“Yes, brushing her hair does make her sleepy,” she said when she spotted the hairbrush in Claude’s hand then frowned when she saw the bandages on Annabelle’s hands “What are those for?”  
“Young Mistress fell in the village and sustained some cuts,” Claude explained as he picked up Annabelle and lay her out on the bed “I suppose I’ll continue brushing her hair later.”  
The head maid smiled before placing the bed pan next to the desk.  
“Remember to warm her bed sheets up before she goes to bed for the night,” she said and left the room.  
Claude paused for a few moments before turning to Annabelle’s form.  
“I would recommend the acting career when you grow up,” he said and Annabelle cracked her eyes open to glare at him “But of course, you won’t have the chance to grow up if things go according to plan.”   
Annabelle pointed to the door pointedly and Claude bowed.  
“As you wish.”  
When he left the room, Annabelle stood up and grabbed one of the flower vases in her room then threw it at the wall in tantrum. If her voice hadn’t been recovering, she would have screamed.


	11. XI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabelle's soul gets tainted

Beginning of June, three weeks until the marriage. Claude was pleased with Annabelle’s progress on her studies, although her equation solving needed improving. Her voice had improved rather nicely so she was talking again. He lifted his head as Annabelle walked into her bedroom, looking rather daunted.  
“Young Mistress?” he said.  
“The Duchess…has a friend visiting…” Annabelle murmured softly “One of her rich friends to try and trick her into giving her money.”  
Annabelle had been rather sneaky stealing money out of the Duchess’s savings box in her bedroom. The Duchess hadn’t even noticed but Annabelle’s father had been rather suspicious about how the village managed to get enough money to repair a few of the houses and smooth out some of the roads.   
“Yes?” Claude raised an uninterested eyebrow.  
“…It was that Shinigami from when we first met my mother,” Annabelle continued.  
“Please get to the point, Young Mistress,” Claude said patiently.  
“Well he was looking for her before,” Annabelle played with her fingers nervously “He said something about today being a special day and I can’t decide what he means exactly by that.”  
“Ah,” Claude’s lips turned into a sly smirk “Your wait is finally over, Young Mistress. Come, it’s time to prepare.”  
*************************************************************************************************  
“And so I say, don’t stand too close or you may drop off,” the Duchess tittered with Miss Sutcliff.  
“Oh, darling, however do you keep a conversation interesting?” she asked, exposing her wide toothy smile.  
“Oh, I get by with having to deal with my husband every day,” the Duchess laughed as she leaned back “Twenty years, Grellia, twenty years of being around him and his cigars.”  
“I suppose you could teach your daughter those kind of things,” ‘Grellia’ simpered.  
“Oh, I have no daughter,” the Duchess laughed, Grellia joining in shortly after.  
A gleam went across Grellia’s green eyes when she saw Annabelle enter the room.  
“So, who is that young attractive woman I see galloping around the mansion?” she asked as Annabelle pulled her braid taut in her hands.  
“Oh, that tramp?” the Duchess snickered “The little bastard, she’s only around to be used for business.”  
The anger flashed in Annabelle’s eyes and her lips pulled back into a silent snarl, glowering at the Duchess. Grell’s lips turned into a wide smile.  
“Oh, I say,” he tittered as Annabelle lunged forward and pulled the braid around the Duchess’s neck tightly “What a way to talk about someone behind their back.”  
The Duchess let out a strangled gasp and Annabelle pulled with all her strength. Grell got up with his chainsaw, revving it loudly without much discretion, much to Claude’s annoyance from his watching spot. Annabelle held her belly in to narrowly miss getting it cut from the chainsaw that was plunged through the Duchess’s writhing body. Blood splattered onto her face as the Duchess tried to scream but found that she couldn’t. The scent of blood flooded her senses and Annabelle staggered slightly, her hair getting stained in blood as she continued strangling the now lifeless woman. Her eyes widened when she saw the Cinematic Record being played out before her, seeing the event of murdering her own mother. She let the braid fall from her hands and Claude swiftly stepped in, grabbing Annabelle.  
“Now, onto the other one,” Grell said as he opened his notebook.  
“Other one…?” Annabelle tug her heels into the floor and turned to him “Other what?”  
Panic flooded her as Grell placed a discrete hand over his mouth as lots of shouting ensued in the room next door. Claude picked Annabelle up and shot upstairs as Grell greeted the men as they stormed in, jumping out of the window. The world spun around Annabelle as Claude reached her bedroom and threw her into the bathroom. He kept a hold of her dress, looking away as she shot right out of it, they had taken her underwear off beforehand, and landed in the bath with a loud splash.  
“Young Mistress!”  
Claude carefully folded Annabelle’s dress as maids came in and stood to attention.  
“The young mistress is washing, is there something the matter?” Claude tilted his head.  
“Oh, Claude, it’s terrible!” one maid wailed.  
“The Duchess, she’s been murdered!”  
“Strangled!”  
“Stabbed!”  
“The murderer got away!”  
“Oh, it’s so terrible!”  
Annabelle washed the blood off her face and out of her hair, listening to the conversation in her bedroom. A sense of dread filled her and she slowly undid the braid in her hair and Grell’s words echoed in her head. The other what? The other Annabelle? No, Claude would protect her, according to him a Shinigami wouldn’t bother with souls that are tied to demons. But the other what? If it was another Duchess, then Annabelle shouldn’t be worried about that either. But there was something about Grell’s voice that didn’t suit Annabelle too well. This sense of unease refused to leave the young girl as she lay in the bath, letting the blood swirl around in the water. She gently raised some blood to her lips to drink it. She scowled in disgust and spat it out.  
“Horrible,” she commented under her breath “Absolutely horrible…”  
How could such foul tasting blood reside in a human? To think Annabelle would believe that that woman was her own flesh and blood?  
“The other one…” she repeated slowly “What other one?”  
If it wasn’t the other Annabelle or the other Duchess then what could it be? It can’t be the other ‘parent’, Annabelle wouldn’t feel this sense of foreboding if her father was going to die, she hated him as much as the Duchess.   
“Wait…”  
Annabelle sat up, her heart beating loudly and her pulse racing.  
“The other mother,” she whispered with a squeak.  
“Young Mistress?” Claude came in as he came in after talking to the maids.  
“Claude, I think my real mother is in danger!” Anne exclaimed and stood up.  
“Young Mistress, relax, we need to wash away the evidence,” Claude soothed as he pushed her back into the bath.  
“Claude, she could be in trouble, I can’t let her die when I’ve only known her for a few weeks!”  
Claude raised an eyebrow then smirked softly, standing up.  
“If the time for her to die has come, there’s nothing we can do,” he explained gently “She does have cancer after all.”  
Annabelle stared at him in horror and slapped him.  
“Take me to her right now!”


End file.
